


Offering

by Thorins_mistress



Series: Relinquish Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-12
Updated: 2003-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorins_mistress/pseuds/Thorins_mistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to my ‘Surrender’ drabble for BelovedEnemies; Written to Avril Lavigne’s “I’m with You” on repeat at 3:30 in the morning.  I think that explains everything.  For some reason I’m channeling Lucius in the first person.  Very stream of consciousness.  Someone asked for more Master!Lucius/Pet!Harry.  I have tried to oblige.  Un-betaed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offering

Harry is mine by right, my property, and my ‘gift’ from Voldemort for a job well done. All those who fought for the Light, without dying, now belong in some way to followers of Voldemort. Not all are treated as cruelly as my Harry. He’s mine, but he also is owned by the entirety of the Dark. He’s an often-enjoyed entertainment of the Dark Lord. In a way, so am I. Both Voldemort and Harry know that I hate to grovel at the feet of the Dark Lord. That groveling often takes the form of showing Harry off for the followers.

Yet, Harry is mine. My pet. I love him, even as I hurt him. The cruelties of his days are broken up by the nights that I stay with him, healing what I have harmed. He submits to me-he must, I have no control of that particular obedience. I shudder to think of what would happen if he didn’t.

The only time he speaks is when he’s alone with me. It’s as if he’s two different people. I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me. When he’s in that room, chained to the wall, waiting for whatever the next atrocity may be, there is no life in his eyes. The green holds no sparkle; it’s the color of old pond scum. With me, it becomes that emerald green of the first day that I met him as an adult. They glitter and contain a sprinkle of mirth, even while he’s servicing me. There’s a delicate line between submission and force. We’re playing dangerously close to the limit.

Playing. What a word. I’m playing with his life, I know. Someday I’m going to fall out of favor with the Dark Lord. He knows that I care more about Harry than I should. Indeed, just the fact that I care about him at all is too much for Voldemort to contemplate. He wouldn’t know caring if it bit him on the ass. I mustn’t think on it. Draco knew what he was getting into when he went into the Dark Lord’s service. I have Harry to worry about first. Yes, Harry is my first priority. I gave up Draco long ago, and it was at his own request.

Harry cried my name when I left that day, when I “relinquished” my hold on him for his own good. He thought I didn’t hear, but I did. I would give anything to hear him cry my name now.

Now I am “Master,” not Lucius. I wonder if he even realizes that I am the same person: he must, or he wouldn’t submit so easily to me. At least, I hope that’s the way he sees it.

***

“Hello, Master.”

“Harry?”

“Yes, Master?” He kneels at my feet so beautifully. I love him like this, ready, naked, needy, waiting for me. Hopeful that he won’t be hurt this night. He’s hopeful that his services will not be required by the Dark Lord.

I don’t want to tell him that the Dark Lord has specifically requested his presence for the evening. It’s for a celebration of the defeat of the last pockets of resistance to Him. All of the followers will be there. All of those who still live from the Light will be there as well: broken, though not as much as Harry, except one. There will be no more resistance to a world ruled by Voldemort; he has made very sure of that. That’s the other reason for this get-together. A continuation of Harry’s humiliation. His downfall has signaled the downfall of the Light. Tonight, Voldemort wants to share that demise with everyone, and I don’t know how to stop it.

“My Lord requests your presence this evening,” I say, in as smooth a tone as I can manage. I don’t want him to know that this affects me as well.

His eyes lose that jewel-like quality again, and his face is paler than I have ever seen it. He knows what this means. He knows how much pain will be inflicted on his body tonight. He also knows that I can’t stop it, however much I may wish.

His reply is more of a sob than anything else: “Yes, Master.”

***

It is infinitely easier for me to watch these horrors than for Harry to endure them, and yet, I almost resent him. He need not keep up a front to those who despise him, as I do. He has long since lost his pride when it comes to submitting himself to Him. Harry doesn’t plead anymore; the only sounds that come from him are screams. Every time a stroke falls from the whip onto his back, every time another Death Eater’s cock is forced into him, and every time the Dark Lord laughs, Harry screams. There is no other word for it. He doesn’t whimper, squeal, or wail. He genuinely screams, as if his very soul is being attacked as his body is being assaulted. For all I know, that is the case. He never speaks of his tortures to me afterwards. I hate to watch, but am thankful that I am not forced to participate often.

Tonight is not one of those nights. It is to be the humiliation of all for the pleasure of the Dark Lord. Lucky, loyal Death Eaters get to fuck Harry as much and as long as they wish. Harry is alone tonight; no other ‘toys’ have been brought out to help him bear this burden. This is not how I thought it would be. I did not know he would be alone in this.

Even Wormtail makes an appearance so that he may take a turn at the “Boy-who-Lived,” and I watch as Harry is nearly broken by that fact. For the final humiliation of Harry, Voldemort wants him on all fours, like an animal, on the steps of the Dark Lord’s throne and sucking him, while I fuck Harry from behind. It’s not that this scenario hasn’t happened before; it has, often. I have a feeling, however, that Harry’s reserves of patience and submission are dangerously low tonight. He can only take so much degradation before breaking entirely. I know that the actions of the Dark Lord are meant to achieve that end, but I wonder what Harry will do before he breaks.

He could tap into his rage and kill us all. He is fitted with no magical collar, unlike everyone else from the Light. Voldemort wanted to know that it was His doing, not a potion or charm, that bent Harry to his will. Voldemort is stupid. He has taken no pet of his own; he uses others instead, and that makes them all angry, followers and pets alike. While he is a powerful wizard, it is on nights like this that he is at his most vulnerable. Especially tonight, when it seems all resistance has been crushed.

That spark that I usually see only when Harry is with me becomes evident in his green eyes. I am unsurprised, but I am confused as to his plans. Just as quickly as it appeared to me, it is gone, and his eyes are back to that murky green. What does this mean?

The night passes without any sign from Harry that he is about to rebel. Voldemort is pleased with my pet, and I hope that he will not be called to serve the Dark Lord again for a long while. The scars from this night will need a lengthy period of healing.

***

While Harry has been healing from his physical injuries from that night, I have constrained myself from asking him why he suddenly seemed so determined to throw off the shackles of his submission. It seemed cruel to remind him of the experience while he was still trying to repair his body. What has suddenly changed? Why does Harry want out now, when there is no hope of defeating the bastard? I have been at the raids: everyone for the Light has either been killed, or captured and given to a loyal Death Eater. Each wears a collar that drains their magic and proclaims their status as a sex slave of Death Eaters.

Severus had been the last to be captured, and it seems his humiliation is going to rival Harry’s in sheer sadism. The more pain that can be applied to his body, the better, is the reasoning of the Dark Lord. Anything and everything is used to punish Severus for turning against the Dark. He belongs to no one, as he is considered too dangerous. His punishment is different from Harry’s in one respect: breaking him is not the goal. Killing him is.

Harry knows this. He was there when Severus was brought before Voldemort. He sees Severus every time he goes to kneel at the feet of the Dark Lord in submission. Harry was even made to participate on one occasion. That hurt him, I know, to cause pain to one of his compatriots. He knows how futile resistance is. He knows how easily it could be him on that wall. Why is he doing this to me?

***

“Hullo, Master.”

“Harry.”

“Yes, Master?” The paleness of his skin only serves to make him more enticing. He does not look up at me, but keeps his eyes fixed on the floor. There is a slight waver to his voice, and I know he is thinking of the last time I summoned him like this. He is worried that tonight will again be filled with pain.

“I want you to answer my questions truthfully.” He nods. “What are your plans? I have seen it in your eyes. You are not concerned with submission any longer. You are not concerned with your life any longer. What has changed?”

He sighs. “Master….”

“I wish an answer, Harry.”

“Lucius-” my heart skips a few beats upon hearing my name on his lips-“it is better if you do not know. You think I do not see how the Dark Lord looks at you? He is just waiting for you to put one step wrong.” Even as he speaks such to me, he is kneeling at my feet. What a dichotomy of independence and submission he shows me.

“Do you think me a simpleton, Harry? Of course I know how the Dark Lord looks at me. Let me help you, Harry.”

He looks as if I have slapped him. Is it such a shock to the boy that I could want to help him? Of course, I have my own motives, and that knowledge could be the shock that I read on his pretty face. Perhaps if I help him he will stay with me. Perhaps I will finally get the chance to avenge Draco’s death at the Dark Lord’s hand. There are many motivations concealed in my offer of assistance.

“You would help me? Why?”

“I love you.” It seems like a natural answer, but he scoffs at me.

“Why would I believe that? You love me as your pet, Lucius. You don’t love me. And I would suppose that there are other reasons as well?” He pauses. “Draco.” It is a statement, not a question.

I nod. “Yes. Also, I am sick of kneeling at the feet of a madman. But you knew that before this situation commenced. Why do you not believe me?”

He laughs. It is a sickening thing, not at all like the laugher that he had before this nightmare began. “As I said, why should I? You’re Voldemort’s right hand, Lucius. You have his favorite enemy, the “Boy-who-Lived,” at your mercy. He favors you, even as he fears you. Why should I believe you when you say you love me? I doubt you even care for me.”

His bitterness drips from his words. I can almost smell it in the small room we occupy. “Perhaps I do not love you, but never question the fact that I care for you. I have always cared for you, from the first moments I saw you. Would I have done what I did before you were captured if I did not care for you? Can you think of what it would be like if I had not left when I did? Whose pet you would be if I had not asked for you?” His eyes become downcast again as my questioning continues. “Would I have healed you as I have done for the last months if I did not feel for you at all? Can you argue the fact that I was tender with you? Can you imagine me being gentle and tender with any of the others who live within these walls? With Weasley, perhaps? Or Granger?”

His head snaps up at that. He hasn’t seen the Granger girl at all since he’s been here. “Where is she? I want to see her.” Odd that he doesn’t ask about the Weasley boy.

“I hardly think that you are in a position to make demands, Harry. She’s alive. A pet, as you are. I don’t know whose.”

“She could help me.”

“I’m sure she could, were she able to access her magic. But she can’t. Only you can, and the wards that are all around this place hamper even the little bit that you can feel. If you tried to use magic the Dark Lord would destroy you. But you still haven’t answered my first question. What happened to create this new situation? I know you do not like submitting, but what has suddenly changed that it has suddenly become so intolerable?”

He looks at me with those green eyes, and they’ve changed character again. They’ve become an odd sea-green color, one I haven’t seen before. I wonder if he’s reconsidering his plans to rebel, or if that color means something totally different.

“Nothing has changed. I have just decided that I no longer wish to be a pet.”

“As if you had a choice? No, my pet, you had no choice. So that doesn’t answer my question either. Keep going.” It is not a request, and he senses this.

“Would you not be tired of submitting if you had Wormtail’s cock up your ass?” That bitterness again makes itself known. Even before he was captured, I never heard Harry speak with such venom about anyone or anything. Though Wormtail is a fitting focus for his hatred.

“I would. So, I have your reasons. Now, what are your plans? Or do you even have any?”

He is silent.

“I see. So either you have none, or you won’t tell me. Either situation is dangerous. More than you know. Voldemort may not have fitted you with a collar, but he knows your whereabouts.” He looks at me in shock. “Oh, yes. Did you not know that he knows your every move? Granted, he doesn’t know your thoughts, and you can access your magic, however limited that may be, unlike the others here. Still, I do not think you would get far in your attempt to escape, but what do I know?”

His eyes are back to that dingy color. Does it take so little to break him, then, at the end? While I am not happy with our present situation, I am content, unlike Harry, I’m sure. As much as I hate kneeling at the feet of the Dark Lord, I am not willing to risk all that I have here for some half-assed plan that the boy has thought up. I’m not quite that stupid.

He’s quiet for a long time. He doesn’t really know what to make of the fact that the Dark Lord knows his every movement. He’s also worried that if his desire for freedom was so obvious to me, whom he was trying to hide it from, how easy is it for anyone else to notice that he no longer wishes to submit.

“Would you rather we just forgot this whole conversation?” He still doesn’t speak to me. “I asked you a question, Harry.”

“Yes, forget, please, Master.”

***

Voldemort has finally decided to become the Dark Lord we all wished him to be and is finally using his brain. He collared Harry, after five months of allowing him access to his magic. Harry’s natural ability to use wandless magic has inadvertently hurt him now. He was given as a gift for the night to a visiting Death Eater from the States. I’m still not sure what actually occurred, for all Voldemort will say is that the man died, and Harry has not spoken for the three weeks since it happened. I have a feeling that Harry’s rage finally got the better of him, though Merlin only knows how, as Harry has an almost infinite well of submission and obedience, and his magic exploded. However, being as warded as he is, the reaction was extremely less than it could have been.

So Harry has finally been restrained, and I was reprimanded for letting him get out of hand. Not likely. If anyone cared to notice, Harry will eat out of my hand if I let him, and will do whatever I may order him.

But he doesn’t speak. There’s no magic actively preventing him for doing so, but I have a feeling that before I arrived on the night that he was collared, the Dark Lord did something to him. Not using magic necessarily, but enough to make Harry fear so that he doesn’t speak anymore. Whatever it was defies knowledge, as I can think of nothing that Harry hasn’t already gone through at the hands of Voldemort.

I think of all this as I wait for him to come back from servicing one Death Eater or another. For the Dark Lord’s followers, the collar has had the unexpected benefit of breaking Harry at last, and I cannot complain. If I complain, there would be more requests for Harry’s services. As it is now, I hardly see the beautiful boy.

He returns and kneels as my feet as he always has done. However, he has followed this for the last three weeks not with a “Hello, Master,” but simply nuzzles my thigh with his cheek. It is enough to make me weep.

“Harry, please. You must speak to me. I am not going to hurt you.”

He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, his gaze still on the floor.

“Harry, I need to know what he did to you. Did he hex you? Did he hurt you in some way that I can’t even imagine? What?”

He just shakes his head again, this time more adamantly. His black hair frames his face beautifully. There are some days when I worry about the lust that I harbor for the boy. He makes a motion with his hands, as if writing on a parchment.

I go to the bedside table and search through the drawers. After a few moments my fingertips touch the feathers of a quill, and I pull it out quickly, following with a piece of parchment and ink. I turn and Harry is already sitting at the small table pushed into one corner of the room. He doesn’t look at me, but doesn’t seem concerned about the lack of orders from me either. I sigh inwardly as I hand all of it to Harry, and he immediately starts to write.

‘Not hex. Something else. Can’t talk. Hurt me. Said take me away from you if I talk,’ Harry writes as I look over his shoulder.

“Why? Surely there’s worse things for you to do than speak?”

Harry shrugs. I’m becoming more annoyed as the conversation goes on. Not at Harry, but at everyone else. How dare they hurt my pet? Who thinks that they have the right to hurt ‘The-Boy-Who-Still-Lives?’ That’s my prerogative. “Is there some sort of charm on you to track if you speak?”

He shrugs again. I have got to find out what happened that night, and I don’t think that Harry can tell me. I have no desire to read it, and I can’t imagine he’ll talk to me since he’s revealed this information. I also cannot use magic to detect what has been done to the boy. That would alert the Dark Lord to the fact that I am not happy with the situation. “We’ll discuss this later, pet. Right now, I’m sure there is something else you could be attending to.”

At my words, he swiftly loosens the knot on the sash of my robe, pushes the black silk aside, and exposes my half-erect cock. Just being around the boy arouses me. I am again amazed by his innocent grace as he moves from the chair to the floor in one movement to kneel before me. His hands circle the base of my cock, softly grasping it, as his tongue comes out to lick at the head.

This is the first time I’ve initiated sex since that night three weeks ago. Harry nearly went into shock after being collared, since his magic went from being such a part of him to being abruptly cut off. He’s had to relearn how to do some things that would be natural to anyone without magic, and forcing sex on him while he was trying to adjust would just have hurt him more. I force myself to remember his agony as I tell myself to go slowly with him tonight.

I feel my control being to waver as Harry takes me deep into his throat and begins to suck furiously. He learned very early on that I’m more pliant to his requests in bed if I’ve already been satisfied once. Though I try to never be purposely hurtful. Unlike some Death Eaters, I have no need to cause pain in order to enjoy sex. Especially not when my partner is one as beautiful as my pet.

I come quickly, and haul him up from the floor, pushing him onto the bed. He waits for a moment, silently asking me what position I would like him. “On your back, pet. Legs up, hands on your ankles.”

I watch as his eyes squint shut. He both loves and hates this position. He likes it because I can kiss him like this, and show that little bit of affection that he would nearly die to receive. He hates it because it forces him to hold himself open for me. I reach into the drawers again and pull out a familiar jar of lubricant. I start with two fingers, stretching Harry quickly, then move to three and four slowly, trying to draw out his pleasure. It’s getting to him, I can tell: his head whips back and forth, trying to get some purchase on the sensations rocking through his body.

I put him out of his misery and coat my erection with a thin layer of lubricant before thrusting into his beautiful body. His mouth takes the shape of an o, and his eyes flutter open, his gaze locking on mine. I begin to make long, slow thrusts until I can tell he would be wailing in frustration, were his able to speak, and I speed up. At this angle, I can easily hit his prostate with every stroke. I take his cock in hand, pumping it in time with my thrusts, until the boy begins to spasm in climax and his muscles clamp down on my cock, pulling my climax from me.

We both collapse, spent. He lets his legs down and curls up with me. I have learned that he needs this closeness after such intensity, and allow him to place his head on my chest. Just before falling asleep, he looks up at me and mouths, ‘Thank you.’

***

It’s taken me a month to discover what happened with Harry that night. I was even reduced to visiting Severus and seeing if I could pry information out of him. That was a rather enjoyable experience. I am glad that the Dark Lord has allowed him to live. I had forgotten how lovely he is when he climaxes while restrained after being “teased” for a while. Not as beautiful as my pet, but lovely nonetheless.

According to Severus, Voldemort placed the magical equivalent of a muzzle on Harry. It doesn’t impede eating, drinking, or cock sucking, but makes him completely unable to speak. It’s not classified as a hex, more a deterrent from harm than anything else. So if I am to question the Dark Lord, he can merely say that he thought it was in Harry’s best interest. As if collaring him was not enough. He also likes it because that means that Harry doesn’t scream any more.

***

It has been another six months of the Dark Lord in power over most of the world. I was wrong; the sex and the collar is not what broke my pet. Harry is dying, and I know it is because he is not allowed to speak. By taking his ability to speak, Voldemort has turned him into an animal, or so Harry sees it.

I have tried my hardest to tell him that he’s not; even Severus and the Granger girl have had a go at it. While the fact that they are both still alive lifts his spirits somewhat, it mostly does no good. They are not summoned to serve the Death Eaters nearly as much as Harry, though Severus is close, and my pet hates it. Without his ability to use magic for little things, such as cleaning himself up after an evening of rape, he is tormented. Walking through the halls of the Dark Lord’s keep bleeding and being laughed at is too much for him, and both have happened too often for my liking. I can see him becoming thinner and paler as the weeks pass. There is but one avenue left to me.

I find myself one afternoon kneeling at the Dark Lord’s throne. In my head, I am cursing him to whatever hole he crawled out of, and am dreaming of killing Wormtail for having inflicted Voldemort on us again. “My Lord.”

“Luciussss,” he hisses. Oh dear, it’s one of those days, when he’s in touch with his serpentine side. “You have not brought your pet with you?”

“No, my Lord. But I come to you because of him.”

“Really? What’ssss the matter, Luciussss? Can’t keep up with him?”

“On the contrary, my Lord. He cannot keep up with me. He’s dying, my Lord.”

“Dying?”

This is not going well, I think to myself. “Yes, my Lord. He understood being collared after the ‘incident,’ but the punishment of him not being able to speak has taken a toll on him. Surely he has learned by now, my Lord.”

“You think sssso, Luciussss?”

“I do, my Lord. He’ll not defy you. And surely you want him alive as your greatest triumph over the Light, my Lord? An example of your power?” Please say that appealing to his vanity will do some good.

“You may have a point, Luciussss.” He snaps his fingers to summon two bodyguards to him. “Bring Harry Potter, Luciussss’ pet, here. Now!” They nod and take off. “So, Luciussss, what are you willing to do for this bit of freedom for your pet?”

I swallow as my heart seems to jump into my throat. “Anything for you, my Lord.”

He nods. “Good. Up here, then.” He waits as I move into position, kneeling between his legs. I know what is next. “Suck, Luciussss.”

I do as I am told. Anything for Harry, and I finally begin to understand why Voldemort disgusts him so. The man is not so well endowed that it should be a problem for anyone to get his or her mouth around it, and yet, he grabs my hair and forces me down onto his prick, quickly cutting off my supply of oxygen. No wonder Harry works so hard to please the Dark Lord. It has been a while for me, and I struggle with the lack of air. He laughs at me and pulls back slightly. “You’re doing well, Luciussss.” Just as he says this, he comes in my mouth, and I swallow it all, as I know I must. I keep licking until his cock is clean, and then let the limp organ slip out of my mouth. He pats my head and then kicks at my stomach, causing me to fall backwards from the throne, gasping for air.

As I begin to right myself, getting back on my knees, I feel a presence next to me. I look down and see the slight form of Harry next to me. His head is down, his chin almost touching his chest. There is no sense of any rebellion from him. How could there be? He is too small, too weak, to even consider it.

I place my hand lightly on the small of his back, giving just that little bit of comfort to him while he faces the Dark Lord.

“Harry Potter. Your masssster has made a requesssst for you.” Merlin, I wish he would stop hissing. “Come here, boy.”

Harry does so, rather reluctantly, I can see. When Harry kneels at Voldemort’s feet, I hear the Dark Lord whisper something in Parseltongue, then “Finite Incantatem.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” he whispers, as if he’s afraid to use his voice again, afraid that all this has been a trick and he won’t actually be able to speak. He looks surprised to hear his words. He also looks frightened at what the Dark Lord might require of him in exchange for this freedom.

“Yes, my Lord, thank you.” I’m stopped from saying more as the Dark Lord waves his hand at me.

“Go away, Luciussss, and take your pet with you,” he orders.

I gratefully take my leave of him and drag Harry with me. He seems almost in shock that no sexual service was ‘requested’ of him this evening. I hold him close to me as we meander through the twists and turns of the hallways before we come to my suite of rooms in the Dark Lord’s keep. As soon as we’re inside, Harry kneels at my feet, and says, “Hello, Master.”

I shake my head, and motion for him to stand up. “Harry, Voldemort might think that I’m your master, but I swear to you that I am not. He no longer keeps such a close watch on you since you have been collared like the rest. I would not have asked the Dark Lord to free you from your torment if I did not care for you more than as just your master. I told you once before that I cared for you, and that sentiment has not changed. For you, I am just Lucius. I want us to be together, not one masterful over the other.” I lean down to whisper in his ear, “Harry, I want you to make love to me.”

His eyelashes lower over those beautiful green eyes as his head tips back to rest on my shoulder. “Yes, please, Lucius. I want to so much, love. This is what I’ve been waiting for since you left over a year ago. Why did you have to leave?”

“Because, love, I had to keep you safe. I still have to keep you safe. No one can know about this change, and I need to know that you can still play at being my slave when necessary.”

“I can, Lucius, I swear. I’ve been able to do it all this time, haven’t I?” He pauses, then places a soft kiss on the hollow of my neck. “I knew you cared. Knew you loved me.”

“I do, love,” I say, turning him around to face me. I rain kisses on his sweet face, and I watch as his eyelashes flutter in response. “I’m going to tease you for hours tonight.”

“Lucius…please, I want you, I need you. Don’t tease!”

The plaintive look on his face makes me laugh. “You mean you don’t want to come as many times as possible in one night? All right, then. I mean, if just one session is enough, then I should be able to make the rounds to the rest of my pets.” As I speak, I begin undressing him, and he does the same to me. It takes him longer as I have many more layers than he does, but finally I am naked in front of him.

“I wish I knew why I liked you so much.”

I laugh again. “You like me because I’m about to let you fuck me.”

He growls deep inside his throat. “Yes, that’s what I’m going to do to you. But first….” He pushes me down on the bed and straddles me, face to face. I like this; I like being able to watch his expressions. “First, I’m going to make you come so hard you see stars. I’m going to lick and suck you until you no longer know your own name.”

I moan at his words. Merlin, what I have missed these last months unable to hear his sweet voice.

“Then, I’m going to stretch you so that you can take me in so far, you’ll be so full. And you still won’t know your name, but you’ll know mine, because you’ll be screaming it when you come, after I thrust against your prostate so many times that you can’t even see stars anymore.” His hands trace over the contours of my body, causing the skin to ripple in response. No words are needed between us now.

He moves from straddling me, actually slithers down my body, and blows warm air over my already excited cock. My continually soft moans turn into loud groans, occasionally dotted with sharp gasps. He giggles. Our lovemaking has never been like this. Before…all this, we were always hurried, having to take as little time as possible between duties. After, we had to keep up appearances. Before Harry was collared, we were both watched extremely closely. Now, I’m considered stupid and unimportant in the circle, and Harry’s no longer a threat, so we can act as we please, and I never have had such consideration in sex. My thoughts stop as I realize that Harry has deep-throated me so quickly. I howl. He is so good at that, and I’m the only one who is ever on the receiving end of his experience.

While he has me in his mouth, he begins to hum. Between the sensations that brings, and the feelings of his lips around the root of my cock, I’m lost. I come so hard, I see only white blankness even with my eyes wide open.

Once I finish, Harry slowly eases my cock from between his lips. “Like that, did you? Did you see stars?” I can’t find the energy to speak, only nod. He smiles, and reaches into the drawer for the lubricant. “Now for the next part. I’ve been waiting forever to do this.” I’m already incoherent, but whatever sounds I’m making suddenly turn into slurred gasps as I feel his slick finger enter me. I try to control my body, but my hips arch up just a little, trying to pull more of him into me.

“Slow, Lucius, remember? And you remember my name, right? ‘Cause you’re going to be screaming it soon.”

I groan as I feel another of his fingers slide into me. “Yes, Harry, more, please.” Each word is punctuated with a soft arch of my hips again as the fingers in me begin scissoring motions, stretching me, readying me. Another finger. I feel Harry rub over my prostate insistently, and I bite my lower lip, drawing blood, rather than howl.

“Don’t come, Lucius. Don’t come until I’m inside you.”

“Then you best do that quickly. I need you, now.”

He laughs. He quickly moves my legs around his waist. “Still trying to order me around, Lucius? Well, that happens to be one order I agree with,” and he slowly, but in one thrust, buries himself inside my body. My eyes squint shut for a few moments as I adjust to the feeling of being so full.

Harry waits until I open my eyes again to speak. “Are you ready?”

I nod, my sweat-soaked hair flying in all directions. He pulls out slowly until just the head of his prick is left inside me, then quickly thrusts back in, hitting my prostate as he goes. I howl. I’ve never had sex this good before. Even Sev isn’t this good. Harry picks up the pace, and, true to his words, I’m screaming his name even before I come, and he’s not even touched my cock yet. When he does, that will be the end of me.

Even while he is thrusting into me, he bends over to press his lips to mine. This is one of the great joys of face-to-face sex. I love kissing and being kissed by him.

He pulls back from me, smiles, and begins to pound into me. I love it. It’s liberating to just be able to take what he gives me right now. My eyes close again. “No, Lucius, open your eyes. I want to watch you lose yourself while I’m in you.”

I follow the order. He’s beautiful. My pet. Mine. I can feel the sensations that accompany my climax, and say, “Harry, I’m going….”

“Come, Lucius, come for me. I want to feel you spasming around my cock. Now, Lucius.”

I do. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. The sensation of squeezing his prick sends me into a high. I love it. I scream “Harry!” before collapsing back onto the bed.

I’ve not passed out, but it’s close to it, and Harry continues to pulsate in me as his own climax hits. When he finishes, he collapses on me, panting.

“That…was wonderful, Harry. I don’t know what else to say.”

“I think that if we can have more episodes like this, I don’t mind being your slave so much anymore.”

“I do love you, you know.”

“I know, and this is our life now. The Light is defeated, and I accept that. But we’re going to make our own little bit of light, right Lucius?”

“Anything for you, Harry.”


End file.
